This One's Gonna Hurt, page 15
“It’s OK, dear,” The man whispered. “I’m not getting fresh, I swear. Just trying to help you up and in. It’s OK. Go ahead, take a seat.”
Once in the cab, she let every muscle crumble at once as she crashed into the seat. Her head fell back against the headrest, as her eyes shut. The man stood on the step so that he was at eye level with Valerie. He continued to make soft and sweet shushing sounds as he reached far behind the seat pulling out an old blanket. He draped it over her body to keep warm and looked down at her as he noticed a sense of comfort had washed over her.
“It’s OK, dear,” He whispered. “You’re safe and sound now.”
He jumped off the step and slammed the door shut with Valerie inside the truck. He removed his cap and wiped the sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his flannel shirt letting out a “Phew” as he went. He turned to his right to walk around the front of the truck and climb into the driver’s seat, but before he made it around the engine compartment, something caught his eye at the far end of the parking lot of the rest stop. A rusty, old blue Jeep was parked in a far-off spot. The once brightly painted white top, looked like years and years of neglect had allowed rust to take over. It looked like it had been stranded in an odd place and time, beaten to death by the elements and the sun for decades.
“Huh,” The man said out loud. “I don’t remember seeing that Jeep here before.”
CHAPTER 25
Valerie sank her body deep into the passenger seat and wrapped the blanket around her shivering body. She was drenched in sweat and had been pelted by the constantly dropping desert temperatures and wind that whipped every inch of her body as she ran those miles to safety. The cooling temperature of her body only made the shaking from absolute fear that had consumed her that much worse. Part of her mind eased, though she knew she couldn’t let her guard down just yet. She didn’t know this trucker, and in any other instance, she would never allow a stranger to hoist her body into a strange truck in the middle of the night. But when she compared this to the alternative that had presented itself, she would take a soft blanket and a warm truck cabin any day over a meat hook slicing her throat and being left for dead in a lonely parking lot just outside of Baker, California.
The driver side door shot open as the trucker pulled himself up and into the cabin as he rested in the seat next to her. He rubbed his open palms on the pant legs of his overalls and let out one of the deepest sighs Valerie had ever heard.
“My name’s Tom,” He said, reaching his right hand towards Valerie. “What’s your name?”
Valerie paused for a moment and watched his hand, then looked back at his face. He seemed nice enough. But until she was safe in the arms of the police or her mother, she would keep anyone and everyone at an arm’s distance.
“Valerie,” she said with trembling words. She opened the blanket and softly shook his hand. “You’re Tom the Trucker?”
“I know, I know,” Tom said with a shy laugh. He took off his hat and ran his right hand over the top of his head. “Trust me, I get plenty of odd comments from all the other road warriors out there. But that’s OK. The road is what I love. Let them say whatever they want.”
Again, Valerie wrapped the blanket tight around her body. She nodded along with Tom the Trucker as he spoke about his love of being on the road. She imagined for a moment that it must be a peaceful existence. Living life on your own terms. Cruising around the country day in and day out. Seeing such interesting people and places every day. Then again, how often did Tom the Trucker leave a route to see anything magical that the country offered? He was probably more used to rest stops, fast food and weirdos.
“Say,” Tom said, turning to reach into the back of the truck cab. “Do you need a drink? I’ve got this case of water bottles back here. They’re nothing too special—”
The second his hand appeared with a fresh water bottle, Valerie swiped it from him like a snake biting its prey. She uncapped the bottle, tilted her head back and guzzled down the lukewarm liquid in record time.
“They’re not cold or nothing,” He continued. He shook his head lightly. “Boy, you sure we’re thirsty. Say, what are you doing out here all by your lonesome, anyway?”
“Can I have another?” She asked, not acknowledging his question.
“Oh yeah. Of course. Have as many as you’d like.” He reached into the back to retrieve a couple more fresh bottles. He handed two to her and kept one for himself. “Don’t worry about the water. I stock up at Costco before these big trips. Really saves money on a long drive. Keeps me from stopping, too.”
She guzzled down the second bottle just as quickly as the first, holding on to the third for later.
“Thank you for helping me,” she said.
“What happened to you tonight? You look like a tornado or something hit you.”
“Can we get out of here? I’ll tell you the entire story. We just need to get the hell out of here now. And we need to call the police.”
“Whoa, whoa. Call the police? What happened out there?”
“My friends and I stopped a few miles away. Some place called Halloran Summit, I think.”
“Halloran Summit?” His eyes shot open. “You ran all the way from Halloran Summit? That’s close to 5 miles!”
“There’s some, I don’t know. A man. He’s a fucking monster. He killed one of my friends. I saw him do it. I don’t know what happened to the others. They might be dead too. All I know is, we need to get out of here right away. He’s going to be looking for me. And if he finds me, he’ll kill us both.”
“Kill us? Are you sure about all this?”
“Yes! I saw him. He killed my friend. He crushed his skull with a baseball bat right in front of me.”
“Who is this man? Why would he do such a thing?”
“I told you, I don’t know who he is. All I know if we need to get the fuck out of here right now!”
“OK, OK. Where should we go?”
“There was a little town back a few miles, right? There has to be police or someone there that can help.”
“That’s Baker,” He said with excitement. “We can get you help in Baker. OK. I need to remove the wheel chocks and we can hit the road. As soon as the rubber meets the road, I can call this in on my radio. Maybe the police can meet us in town.”
Tom opened the door and hopped out of the truck.
“Don’t worry your little head,” He said, looking up into the cab. “We’ll get you to safety before you know it.”
Tom shut the door and made his way to the back of the trailer to remove the encumbrances from each wheel. The chocks were bright yellow and had been shoved deep under two of the back wheels of the trailer. Protruding from each was a long, yellow handle that raised about waist high. This made for easy usage, both in installation and removal before travel. When the driver side door shut, Valerie noticed the massive mirror that sat just outside the window had been positioned so that she could see every movement Tom the Trucker made. She watched as he wrapped his hands around the handle and began wrestling the chock from underneath one of the back wheels. She imagined it must be heavy, as he wrestled with it for a good amount of time before he finally got it to budge. Although, Tom the Trucker wasn’t in peak shape. He was skin and bones. So, any activity that required muscle might become a chore for someone like good old Tom.
She watched him, wondering if she should offer to help. After all, if it weren’t for Tom, she might still be running in the darkness. Alone, exhausted, fearing for her life. Instead, she wrapped the blanket tighter and set her head back against the vinyl seat. It was cold, but somehow felt great against her damp, sweaty hair. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It had been hours since she felt any sense of comfort. Now that she had it, she didn’t want to let it go. Especially to fight with a heavy wheel chock.
Her mind had drifted off to another place when she was shot back into reality. A loud crash of steel against steel. She glanced to the driver side mirror to see what Tom the Trucker had done. He must have stored those heavy items within metal storage bins that had were positioned underneath the trailer itself. She saw Tom as he rubbed his hands together.
Just then, Valerie noticed something in the darkness behind Tom. She thought maybe her mind was playing tricks on her, so she leaned over towards the driver seat for a closer look. She squinted her eyes at the mirror and focused in on the mysterious object. Her eyes shot open wide when her brain caught on. Tom the Trucker wasn’t alone. The masked maniac had found them both.
“Tom!” She shrieked
He didn’t budge. Nor did the figure looming behind him. He stood deathly still, only shifting his head even further to the right, admiring Tom. She pushed her body off the seat and lunged toward the rope that hung above the driver seat. She caught it with her right hand and thrust it downward. A roaring horn burst out and echoed throughout the air. She pulled it again and again to get Tom’s attention. She pulled her body up and found herself sitting behind the wheel. She grasped the wheel while leaning towards the mirror.
“Tom! Get out of there! Tom, run!” She screamed.
Tom’s body jerked at the sudden blaring horn, as though a burst of electricity had hit him. But it was too late for good old Tom.
The masked man reared back and swung with his right arm, dragging the meat hook upwards along Tom’s spine. He let out a horrific shriek of pain as both of his arms shot up into the air and he shot forward. Like the feeling of ice-cold water splashed on your back when you don’t expect it. He twisted his body, falling against the trailer with his now sliced open back. Blood stains grew from underneath his overalls as it flooded from the abdomen length gash.
Valerie screamed while covering her mouth with both hands. The masked man heard the screams and turned his head just enough to see her. Their eyes met in the mirror, and she was almost certain she saw him laughing under Spencer’s mask.
Again, he pulled his right hand behind his back, swung around his body and cut through Tom’s belly. Blood burst from the gaping wound dousing the dirt like a busted sprinkler. He wrapped his arms across his belly as he fell to his knees. When he hit the ground, the rest of his body fell forward with enough force that his forehead crashed into the soil. Through his clasped fingers, blood poured like a fish tank whose glass had shattered and his intestines fell into his open hands, covering his forearms as they hung from his open gut. Using his good foot, the masked man kicked Tom’s body, forcing him to land on his right side. There was nothing anyone could have done. Tom was gone. A helpless victim in someone else’s disgusting game. The game was now Valerie’s. And she needed to win.
Again, she found herself alone. The only help within miles had been sliced wide open right before her eyes. After hitting the lock on the driver door, Valerie dove back to the passenger seat. She grasped the door handle so tight she could have broken it clear off. She looked in the mirror and saw that the coast was clear. If she didn’t try to make her move now, she might as well sit and wait to die inside that truck. She pulled the handle, pressed her feet against the inside of the door and pushed with all her strength. With her hands planted into the vinyl seat, she pushed her body up and out of the truck. The drop was farther than expected, and when her feet hit the ground, she stumbled forward, reaching her hands out to break her fall. Her open palms scraped across the pavement of the road and she moved with such momentum, her body twisted and rolled over a couple of times across the pavement.
She jumped to her feet and stared out at the vast emptiness from which she had come. Could she run all the way back to that place? Even if she could, did she want to? “Hell no,” she thought to herself. She never wanted to face that place again. She wanted to forget every single second she had spent at Halloran Summit Road. Valerie turned as she attempted to run in the opposite direction, but it was no use. Her body connected hard into the massive body of the maniac. She pushed him away from her, but he didn’t budge. Instead, the push only knocked her back a step or two.
“What the fuck do you want from us!” Valerie yelled.
She let out a fierce scream as she clenched her fists. She wound up and took a swing at him. He lifted his left hand, blocking the blow and grabbed her by her right forearm. He forced her arm downwards as he raised his right hand high into the air. With a single swipe, the meat hook sliced through Valerie’s left cheek, cutting her face into two.
An intense yelp escaped from her throat as she cupped her hands over her face. She couldn’t see anything, but could feel the warm trickle of blood as it dripped through her fingers and down her face to her body. She stumbled backwards, tripping over her own feet. When her exhausted body fell, her head connected with the steel step just underneath the open passenger door of the truck, sending her entire world into blackness in an instant.
He left her there, lying unconscious, blood gushing from both her face and the back of her head. Soon, the area was illuminated by dull yellow headlights from the rundown Jeep as it approached. He pulled alongside the truck and jumped out. He flicked open the back hatch, grabbed Valerie from under her arms and brutally hoisted her body up and into the back. He then emerged from the back of the semi-trailer, his hands underneath Tom’s body as he pulled and dragged him through the dirt. He lifted his limp and lifeless body into the back of the vehicle, shutting the back hatch before driving into the desert towards Halloran Summit Road.
CHAPTER 26
Valerie slowly came to, as did all of her sleeping senses. She could barely lift her head as her eyelids opened ever so slightly. Everything in her vision was a blur as she blinked repeatedly, hoping to focus in on something - anything - to let her know where she was, and to let her know if she was alive or dead. Her chin had been buried deep into her chest, and as she lifted the pain in her neck and shoulders burned like a 4-alarm fire. The ache and pain in her joints was deep, and the pain was almost too much to handle. As her head lifted from her chest, drool and spit poured out of the corner of her mouth to her raggedy, blood soaked hooded sweatshirt. She tried to lift her right hand to rub the muck from her eyes, but her arm wouldn’t budge. She shook her head in a fury, blinking and rolling her eyes side to side as her new world came into focus.
She looked down at her hands, noticing that she had been strapped to a rolling desk chair. Her wrists were bound to the arms of the chair by chains that had been wrapped multiple times from her fingers to her forearms. She tried pulling her arms upwards, but the chains didn’t allow for any movement. She wriggled her fingertips and stretched them outwards to allow some blood to flow. The awful feeling of pins and needles had taken over her fingers, hands and arms, as those chains had cut off the ability to feel anything at all.
She tried to kick her feet, but they also wouldn’t budge. She leaned forward as far as her body would allow to see that her ankles were also chained. Those chains had been tied to the bottom of the chair so she wouldn’t be able to move, run or kick at anyone who might come for her. She turned her head side to side to stretch her neck and shoulders, though the pain had grown so severe, she began to moan and grumble in agony.
It was the sense of smell that came back next, making her instantly sicker than she had ever felt. The stench of rotting flesh swirled around the room mixing with an overall smell of feces, piss and filth. An odd scent of old smoke and charcoal also came out to play along with the wretched stenches that claimed the air as their own. The air stung and burned her nose, throat and lungs as she frantically breathed in and out. Her body tried to reject the sour air as it crashed into the back of her throat. Her throat closed in on itself, forcing her to gasp to keep oxygen inside of her bloodstream. Her body recoiled as a mix of vomit and stomach bile raced up her esophagus to her mouth. With everything she had, she pushed the acidic mixture back to her guts as her head spun from the woozy feeling that overcame her and grew stronger.
Next, it was her vision, which she soon regretted. Her eyes focused on her surroundings as a house of pure horrors came to life around her. A true hell. One worse than anything she had ever imagined, read about or seen in her nightmares or the movies. Minimal, dull yellow light illuminated minor parts of the space. To her left, pure black as the light faded and was swallowed by the darkness. A blue, plastic trash can rest next to her chair. The light cut the darkness just enough for her to see what appeared to be blood soaked bones stacked inside. Scraps of flesh stuck to some of the bones that had been rotting for quite some time. At the far end of the room, a small mattress sat upon the floor pressed against the wall. It wasn’t neatly made, or neat at all. It was stained and covered in filth, like the rest of the room. One solitary, crumbled, sad pillow rested against the wall as though it was weeping. A wrinkled blanket that looked like it was dragged from a dumpster laid upon the foot of the mattress.
The walls of the room were plastered with wallpaper that was bubbling, stained and tearing away from the structure. It appeared, at one time, that it was a burnt yellow color with a white floral pattern throughout. Now, much like the entirety of this space, it screamed to be torn down. Burnt, buried and forgotten. Valerie feared she was now inside one of those trailers they had seen from the parking lot. In fact, she was certain of it. Not only did she fail at escaping the monster, she was now in his home.
Just when she thought her living nightmare couldn’t get worse, she turned to her right. Slowly, her head shifted to that side of the room. Her eyes burst with fear and shock as she focused on everything happening around the room. Stacked on top of one another only a few feet away were each of her friends. Limp, lifeless and soaked in blood. Each of them was covered in fatal wounds.
The bodies were piled in the order in which this maniac had killed and captured them. Almost as though the psycho had used each body as part of a collection, piling them one by one as he ran them down and killed them. When she shifted her head downward, she saw Spencer. His pale white face stuck and full of pricks from a cactus, his throat and neck slashed from collarbone to jawline. Next, her best friend Jenna. Her throat slashed with a thick, gaping wound, with flesh that dangled back into the open cavity. Her body was torn to bits as though a giant claw had ripped through her abdomen. On top of Jenna was her older brother, Brad. Seeing him in this state, only a few inches away from her own body, solidified the feelings she had tried so hard to suppress. His face and throat both eviscerated from the thrashing he had taken from this mindless killer and his meat hook. His jaw bone sat askew and hung sideways away from the rest of his skull. His eyes wide open in lasting terror. On top of the pile of bodies was good old Tom the Trucker, his abdomen sliced wide open. As she stared into the gaping hole of his body cavity, she twisted her head away, leaned over and vomited onto the floor. She cried harder than she could ever remember crying. She noticed the absence of Lexi and prayed maybe she had run to safety. Or at least escaped the fate of those on the floor.
